


Mistle

by syren888



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Gentle Kissing, Humor, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Kissing, M/M, Mistletoe, Romance, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:26:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22424791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syren888/pseuds/syren888
Summary: While taking a stroll among Christmas shoppers, Aziraphale seems to find himself stuck thanks to some mischievous plants. He has no choice but to ask Crowley for some help; cue to some chaste experimenting.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	Mistle

Everything was decorated for the festivities; garlands and little colorful lights everywhere. People were rushing from one place to the other for the last-minute present for their dear ones. 

Among the jolly passersby, there was a peculiar pair of men walking down the street. One with gleeful blue eyes, and a happy smile on his face, looking around, wearing a completely white suit. The other, wearing completely black; shaded glasses and sulking over the joy around him. 

"Oh, come on Crowley! Look at all the happiness and merriness around you! Doesn't that lift your mood a bit?" asks the white wearing man, elbowing the other playfully. 

"If you mean all the imagining of them tripping and ruining all their fancy clothing and cake, then yes, that lifts my mood a bit" answers Crowley evading a running child with a Santa Claus hat crossing the streets with his friends towards the park. 

"Such a spiteful fiend, aren't you?" comments the other with a roll of his eyes. 

"Such a saccharine and optimistic angel, aren't you Aziraphale?" quips back Crowley, moving a strand of his long red hair behind his ear. 

"Well, I don't know about saccharine, but I am optimistic" starts Aziraphale "and one of these days, you'll share the same sentiment too" he declares with shining eyes. 

"We've been having this talk for practically two thousand years angel" states the demon, stepping around a group of people singing Christmas carols and passing over the arched entrance of the park "just keep telling yourself that, it's not going to come true, but hope is part of your work field, ain't that true angel?" asks Crowley looking at his side. 

He stops when he sees that Aziraphale is not beside him. For a moment, he feels a dread consume him, and his mind starts to come up with many reasons why the other might have disappeared; from kidnapping to having been discovered by their superiors. 

'I need to find out what happened, and… 

"... Ley…"  
  
'How were they able to find us? We’re perfectly blending in…  
  
"Crowley!" 

"What!?" asks the demon turning around in exasperation, only freeze on the spot. 

There, just on the threshold of the park is Aziraphale, standing stiffly under the archway. 

"Angel?" wonders Crowley, walking towards the other. 

"Yes, well… it seems like I'm in a bind, literally in one" expresses the angel with a forced smile on his face. 

"Why?" asks the demon perplexed "Look up" says Aziraphale. 

Crowley does, and it's met by the whole archway covered with mistletoes. He tilts his head and mentally counts more than twenty arrangements hanging over them.

"I don't get it. You're usually not affected by those things" comments the demon "Unless they are blessed" explains the angel "are they?" asks Crowley "Most of them, yes" answers Aziraphale. 

"Then I'll just have to burn them all and…" states Crowley, a small fireball forming on his left palm. 

"No, no, no. That will cause a commotion that we don't want to be part of. Let's just follow the traditional way, and be done with it" declares the angel, a light blush on his cheeks. 

"The traditional way?" inquires Crowley "Yes" responds the other.  
  
"That means…"  
"Yes, I'm aware of it" states Aziraphale with a darker blush. 

"Are you sure? That one time you…"  
"Dear Oscar Wilde had just been thrown to prison. He was such a charming fellow" defends the angel. 

"And that other time, you…"  
"Poor Alan Turing had just been chemically castrated! That was such an awful thing to do" laments the white-suited man. 

"And not so long ago, you…"  
"Freddy was such a brilliant soul, it was so sad when he departed" reminiscences the angel. 

"And now?"  
"Now? we are in the 21st century. I think that no one will bat an eyelash for a simple and friendly display of affection" explains Aziraphale "It can practically be considered a greeting these days" he says as an afterthought. 

'Simple and friendly, huh' thinks Crowley to himself 'we'll see about that'

"A greeting, eh? Then let's start then" agrees the black-suited man. 

Crowley takes Aziraphale's left hand, does a curtsy, and kisses the back of it. The angel giggles at the touch, accentuating his blush, but still doesn't move. 

"First try, failed" murmurs the demon "trial number two" he stands and brings the hand towards his lips, kissing the knuckles slowly, one by one. 

Aziraphale's breath catches for a moment, his eyes going wide; however, he's still unable to move. 

“Third time’s the charm” comments the demon to himself. He let go of the other’s hand and gets closer to his face. He takes a short breath and then swiftly pecks the angel’s cheek.

Aziraphale gasps at the contact, his cheeks turning a deeper red and it’s able to bring his head down in embarrassment, but nothing else.

Meanwhile, Crowley looks up and notices the shaking of some branches.

“I need to spice it up, you say?” he asks absent-mindedly.

“Who are you talking to, Crowl…

Aziraphale’s words were interrupted by the press of lips against his. It was a searing kiss; it started gentle, tentative, but when reciprocated, a switch went on and passion ignited. A whimper escapes the angel’s lips, and it’s answered by a devious and lustful groan.

It wasn’t until the feel of something smacking them slightly on the head that they parted and looked around. 

They see branches of mistletoe spread around, and looking upthe they notice the reduced amount of branches attached to the archway.

Aziraphale tries to take a step and does so easily.  
  
They look at each other for a moment; the angel with a shy smile on his face, the demon with a fond smirk on his.

“M-merry Christmas, Crowley” wishes Aziraphale widening his smile.

“You too, angel” responds Crowley tapping the other’s nose gently and enjoying the small laugh it provokes.

They walk in comfortable silence until the angel’s home; without any doubt, Crowley pecks Aziraphale’s lips, turns around and bids him farewell with his hand. The angel sighs contently, notices that he’s floating a bit and hastily goes inside his place. He comes down and starts walking to his room. There, on his nightstand, are some green and red ribbons, quite similar to the ones around the blessed mistletoe from not long ago.

Aziraphale remembers how he heard that mistletoe branches arrived at the nearby church and needed to be blessed; so, acting as a visiting priest, he did them the favor.

With a chuckle at the coincidence, he gets ready to read a couple of books that arrived just that morning, it was a wonderful day, and that was one of the best ways to conclude it.  
  


* * *

Crowley walks into his apartment whistling a random tone, with a couple of skips his inside his garden room and being greeted by giddy leaves and branches. He gets closer so medium-sized mistletoe tree.

“Well done my dear, you’ve done wonderfully” prizes the demon, remembering how he heard that the church was looking for mistletoe branches to be blessed, and remembering previous situations, he acted fast, and disguising as a delivery man, he made sure that his branches were the ones used for said blessing.

Crowley touches his lips, and with a hum and a pat to his plants, goes back to his room. There are virtual chaos and mayhem he can cause during this time of the year, those poor phone companies fellas won’t know what hit them.

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> This was a writing challenge prompt that got postponed a few times, until a couple of weeks ago. The prompt was a Christmas or New Year's story, and this one came out of nowhere. 
> 
> It's my first time writing something for this fandom, but I liked how it came out in the end. Let me know if you find typos, and mistakes. Your opinion and comments are always welcome :D


End file.
